Slytherin's Little Mudblood
by sarahtherainbow
Summary: This brings me to today May 12th of my sixth year at Hogwarts. I will survive." The story of Kassandra O'Riley.
1. Chapter 1

The History so far of Kassandra O'Riley

I'm Kassandra, I'm seventeen, I have to do an assignment for divination on my past. Somehow this will help me find about my future. I'm not sure if I agree, how will this essay of sorts help me find my future, my past does not define me, why can the world not see that?

I've decided to do an official and unofficial piece for this assignment, for my history is not one I want to share with Professor Trelawney, but I have to take schoolwork seriously, maybe this will help me find my future path. That's the only reason I took Divination, I want to know of my future, I need to know, in the current climate there is no margin for error, only death if you get it wrong. I can feel it coming, a war, and I don't want to lose.

My mother and father say that my will not to lose was formulated because I have so many siblings, eight older sisters to be exact. My parents are psychologists and hold great belief in the psychoanalysis of Sigmund Freud, the ego and the super ego, I try not to listen. My eight sisters are all 'master of their own fields' although I am sick of hearing that phrase every time anyone comes around for a meal. They range from Elissa who is an Aeronautical Supervisor to Olivia who works for CERN experimenting with subatomic particles.

I guess feeling inferior to these sorts of people is only to be expected, but it's still hard, I'm the youngest by eleven years and no-one acknowledged my existence for the first eleven years of my life. If they did it was to criticise, this is apparently constructive, although I have never understood why.

So during these years I grew up pretty much completely ignored, except by those at my primary school. St Joseph's, it was meant to be a school for gifted children, but really it was just a trap for those 'different children' to get insulted by other 'different children'.

I was born with black hair and coal black eyes which of course put me in the firing line as soon as the other children were old enough to talk, according to them it was sign of evil. Most days, to be honest, I wished it was. If I was evil then maybe I could wipe them all out, defeat them, I've always had a need to be better, so I instead beat them in schoolwork and other qualities.

So there we are my life up to eleven, ordinary really. So when I was eleven we were, my parents and I along with two sisters who had come along to help, sitting in the kitchen debating which secondary school I was to go to. My parents were set on Long Hall, a school for gifted children with an added element of psychology, where as my sisters were set on St. Thomas Aquinas, a school for children who wanted an added emphasis in science. I was staying silent, my choice was not one of their main concerns, I would go where they decided to place. In their eyes this was never a question.

Then, the first interesting moment of my life occurred, I remember it as clearly as if it was happening right at this very second. There was a knock at the door, I was grateful at the interruption of this discussion, and quickly ran to answer it. I opened the door to an old man with a silvery hair and a silvery beard. Over the years I would learn to respect this man, to call him Professor Dumbledore, to learn under his rule at Hogwarts, but at the time all I could think was that his eyes were burning into my face.

He asked to see my parents and of course they were informed of my magical abilities, of the fact that Hogwarts was offering me a place. My parents, being the psychologists that they are, immediately began to question if this was an experiment, and their queries were only quelled, when Dumbledore turned my sister blue and then back again to her normal colouring. I have to say, I preferred her blue, suited Eileen so much better.

Over time my parents would learn to accept that I was magical, never support me, but accept. At the time, though, they were furious, they couldn't believe that a daughter of theirs was going to a school that had not been pre-approved by them and resolved to do anything they could to change the fact, to make me 'ordinary'. Obviously their efforts were in vane and three months later I began my journey to Hogwarts on the train, at last escaping my overbearing parents.

I have always liked to research a fair amount before embarking on any decision or journey, so had read a good many books on Hogwarts before the time came. I knew of its supposed magnificent splendour, of the sweeping grounds, the roaring fires and the fact that intrigued me the most, the sorting hat and houses. As a child I had always been defined by whomever was above me and now suddenly I would get a chance to be my own person, because the sorting hat would know me implicitly, it would place me where I was meant to be. A spark of excitement that I had never felt before began to burn when I read this and it continued to grow as I made my way to the great hall of Hogwarts.

I reached the great hall, thoroughly wet and wishing for a warm shower, yet still excited. I was part of a crowd of first years and impatient to be placed where I needed to be.

At last the sorting began, many of the other first years who had come from muggle families were pointing out the obvious magic within the room, but I was not ignorant enough to do this and stood there, staring towards the hat with admiration, I just could not wait. Finally I reached it, I will remember the words it said to me until my dying day.

"Kassandra O'Riley, eh? A good mind, yes, a muggle-born, yes. Gryffindor, no, for you are not a lion. Hufflepuff is certainly not the house for you, nor Ravenclaw, for a clever student may be, but a Ravenclaw you are not. You are cunning though, and a wish to rule is at the forefront of your mind, it must be Slytherin it must be, good luck Kassandra, good luck." Then, as with all students, the brim opened and Slytherin was yelled out.

Dumbledore gave a slight expression of confusion, but then settled down again, his hands clasped together, to watch the rest of the sorting. I had been placed.

I settled down into Slytherin right away, and I did seem to fit in, after the first week of talking the others began to realise that I was not to be talked to and preferred to be on my own. It was not as if they were aversed to me in any way though, just I became part of the furniture.

As for my heritage, I was not unintelligent enough to reveal that, I spent my days lying, I was adopted, of course. That was why my parents could not be invited to these 'meetings' that other Slytherin parents had and I knew for sure that they were pureblood, I even adopted the pureblood mantra over these years, convincing myself that I was, even while I knew somewhere that it was a lie.

The teachers had no problem with me, I worked hard, got top grades, and was an all round good student. I kept out of the ways of the troublesome students, only occasionally playing a prank on a Gryffindor student, which of course was never traced back to me. I got the impression that some of the teachers even thought that I had been placed in the wrong house, Professor McGonagall even muttered it under her breath many a time. I knew, however, that I had been sorted correctly, this was definitely the house I was meant to be in.

Meanwhile, as I was growing up, and excelling in all magical activities, the legend of Voldemort started to return. Harry Potter was often at the forefront of these and I made sure to keep a close eye on all events. Two years ago Voldemort returned, I know this as he is a constant topic of conversation in the common rooms, the atrocities are all true. He is back.

As of two years ago my studies took on a new ferocity, I would learn my classes by day and curses by night, I would be prepared when the battle came. For as a mudblood in Slytherin my hopes were low for myself, my goal was only to survive.

This brings me to today May 12th of my sixth year at Hogwarts. I will survive.


	2. Chapter 2

_Just a chapter to give you more an idea of her views :). Thanks for the review :)._

July 12th

It is now two months since I wrote my assignment for Divination, I have decided to keep a diary, I know not how long this will last but I am determined to see it through as long as I can.

Tension mounts everyday since Professor Dumbledore's death. I was not particularly close to our former headmaster but I had a certain sense of awe for him, as do all who have known him. The battle at Hogwarts, as it is being dubbed by many students, was a clash of houses to say the very least.

I do not have an allegiance to the death eaters, nor to the Order of the Phoenix, so even though many of my house were itching to join the battle I stayed at the back of the common rooms faking terror. I don't really know why my house are portrayed as evil, Voldemort may be, I don't know, but my house are certainly not. Even if the idea of a pureblood society is 'evil' it is not the fault of the people who have been indoctrinated into it their entire lives.

Take Pansy Parkinson for example, her parents have always taught her that anyone not of pureblood status is subhuman. I have been led to believe that these parents of hers are not people who you could argue with, so is she really to blame?

I, on the other hand, can be blamed for my actions. Never have I been indoctrinated into this pureblood mania, yet sometimes I start to believe it. Perhaps a pureblood society would be best, the more time I spend poring over books the more I start to believe I, and all other muggleborns, are just thieves of magic, there is no real magical blood running through our veins and we should not have it.

Which brings me onto the subject of death. I am not scared of death, more of the time I shall miss on this earth, but my death is seeming more inevitable by the day. Voldemort's grip on the world spreads by the day, death eaters are at large, there are more deaths everyday and the world seems to be tensing itself, ready for the war that will certainly ensue. I am not sure of how long being a Slytherin can protect me, there is only a certain amount of time before somebody, of the Ministry probably, is commissioned to destroy all mudbloods. Lock us up most probably, snap our wands and leave us in broken pieces for the dementors to hide away.

I have considered hiding away, I have considered giving myself up, what is the real purpose in waiting for those people to come and collect me? At the most I will have a few more months. I think that I will just wait though, I have never been dubbed as unintelligent and perhaps the Order of the Phoenix will win quickly, perhaps they will defeat Voldemort before he has the chance to destroy us all, perhaps not. We will see.

Personally I have always been a pessimist, I am almost positive that the Order of the Phoenix will fail, and who will be left but those who have shown their allegiance to Voldemort? Those of pureblood of course, halfbloods are needed but they will not be preferred, but I will be dead so is there much reason to think of these things?

As I sit here writing these the train to Hogwarts draws nearer and I must bid farewell to you dear diary, I will try to write when I get home, but inevitably I will forget. If this is my last entry, God speed this passage to the journals of history.

Kassandra O'Riley.

_I would appreciate any opinions on this, thank you._


End file.
